


A Sort of Homecoming

by Greysquirrel



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Unresolved Issues, Unresolved Tension, Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27543916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greysquirrel/pseuds/Greysquirrel
Summary: 12 years after the events of season 4, everyone has gone their separate ways. As Betty Cooper's life in California falls apart, she makes the decision to return to Riverdale to decide what to do next.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper & Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones & Veronica Lodge
Comments: 27
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on here so comments are very much appreciated. Also, non-beta'd - all editing done myself so hopefully its not full of errors!
> 
> Please let me know what you think x

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Betty Cooper begins her trip back to Riverdale from California, Jughead Jones rolls back into town.

Betty Cooper glanced around the tiny studio that had been home for the past three months. There was nothing left to pack - an abundance of checklists had made sure of that - but she checked again anyway. Pacing the room, unable to relax, she fidgeted with her hands, picking at her cuticles until one started to bleed a little. With heart and mind racing, she flopped down onto the sofa. "Get a grip, Cooper," she chided. Then sitting back up with perfect posture, began her breathing ritual. 

  
_In, two, three, four, hold... out, two, three, four, hold... repeat._

  
After a moment, her nerves calmed, and she stretched her neck and back out a little. But the stillness lasted only a moment. With a heavy sigh, she stood and checked the cupboards one last time.

  
Not for the first time in her life, Betty wished she wasn't a morning person. Never sure whether it was nature or nurture, she still woke at 6am every morning, even though her mother's influence was long gone. However, routine helped quiet her mind, and old habits had persisted (both good and bad) for as long as she could remember. On a typical day, she'd already have completed a 3-mile run followed by a few yoga poses. As it was, this morning's routine consisted of rechecking the contents of her packing boxes and suitcases as she waited for the movers to arrive.

  
The problem with being up so early in the morning is that she had too much time on her hands to wait. To think. The running helped with that - the rhythmic pounding of feet on the asphalt becoming a mantra. Betty wondered if she would miss watching the sunrise over the bay. But, leaving was the right option. Hell, it was the only option. What to do next was wide open, though. One of the benefits of having no ties was that you could go anywhere, right? Then why take a step back? Was there really nothing left to lose? 

  
It was different this time, Betty told herself. It didn't feel like running away from her issues - arguably, she was running straight towards them. Years ago, she'd been the one to sever all ties. To choose to turn her back on everything and everyone and not look back, lest all the bad decisions catch up with her. Betty smiled wryly to herself as she acknowledged that she was doing the exact same thing again. It was different this time - she was finally facing the music.

  
The sound of a text message alert brought her back to the present.

  
_The movers have just left, should be with you soon._

  
Clipped but polite, just like most of their communications these days. At least since the shouting and recriminations stopped. The phone pinged again.

  
_There was an offer on the apartment this week. It'll close in the next few days so we can finalize the settlement. You'll get something from your lawyer the week after._

  
Betty seethed. Why was she only hearing about this now? The morning she was leaving? She started to tap out a reply but, with a heavy sigh, deleted it again. Civility was the best way through this. The movers arrived as she was still considering a response. She sent an equally short 'Thanks.'

  
The movers only needed one trip to load Betty's belongings in their truck. She glanced into the back, noting the piles of boxes and items they'd already collected from her former apartment. This was her life, reduced once more to a few pieces of furniture, some suitcases, and piles of packing boxes. One of the movers cleared his throat, handing Betty the paperwork to check. Betty signed where indicated and beamed her trademark 'Cooper smile' at them - the one perfected over many years that never quite reached her eyes. "Thank you. I hope you have a good drive".

  
Betty watched as the truck pulled out and started its journey east. Taking a minute to herself, she surveyed the neighborhood for a moment. With a deep breath, she dropped the studio's keys into the mailbox and headed for the station.

  
\--------

Betty nursed her latte and picked at a pastry as she waited for the gate to be confirmed. It was only 20 minutes until the scheduled departure but still no information. Maybe she should have opted for decaf? She'd been trying to concentrate on her book for the duration of the layover with little success. It was less than 300 pages long - usually, it wouldn't have lasted the first flight. Maybe she should have picked something a little lighter and less introspective? Maybe she should just stop overthinking things? Checking the departure board once again, she noticed a number had finally been assigned. She grabbed her carry-on, abandoning her book, as she almost ran to the gate.

The flight to Albany was quiet, but Betty barely noticed that she had a row to herself. She stared at her phone for a moment and, taking a deep breath, opened the messaging app, and selected a contact, typing out a quick message.

  
_My flight is on time so I guess I'll see you in a couple of hours._

  
The reply was instantaneous.

  
_Great! I'll b there. Hope ur flight is ok._

  
Betty felt her nerves tighten into a solid knot as she turned off her phone, once again wondering if she was doing the right thing.

  
\--------

  
In upstate New York, a vintage Dodge pickup pulled into the parking lot under the Pembrooke. Jughead Jones grabbed his duffel bag and groceries off the passenger seat and headed to the elevator. Punching in his personal security code, he selected the penthouse and sent a text to Veronica to say he'd arrived. By the time he reached the apartment door, she'd replied.

  
_Thanks Jones. You know I appreciate you looking after the place. Besos x._

  
Jughead snorted. It had been a standing arrangement for years. Whenever Veronica's housekeeper went on vacation or needed time off, Jug would come and housesit. He was pretty sure that it was one of her schemes to make sure she could keep tabs on him - if he was at the Pembrooke, she knew where he was and how to reach him. He'd almost resent it if she hadn't been such a lifeline for him over the past 12 years. If not for Veronica, he'd probably be homeless again or in prison. Maybe worse.

  
He dumped his groceries on the kitchen counter and took his duffel through to the guest room. It didn't matter that he'd lived here on and off for years, and Veronica urged him to personalize it a little; he still viewed it that way. Jughead never really put down roots wherever he stayed - not here, not in the trailer. Not even in that short period where the Joneses had lived with the Coopers when everything seemed like it would be good for once. That had come crashing down when FP went back to prison, and Betty decided to stop slumming it with him. He should've seen both things coming. Not that it would hurt any less if he had. 

  
Wandering back through to the kitchen, he shot a quick text to JB to let her know he was 'on-grid' again and considered making himself a sandwich. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he wondered if it was too early to head to Pop's. He decided that he didn't care, stuffed his laptop and notebook into a messenger bag, and headed back to the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got the first few chapters drafted so will drop them regularly over the next couple of weeks. 
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts x


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty Cooper arrives back in Riverdale, and some old friends start to get re-acquainted.

It was late on Saturday evening as Betty lay back on the bed, staring at the sloped ceiling. The room had changed since she'd been here last. The walls were now a pale, neutral color, and the old twin bed had been switched out for a queen size. Posters had been swapped for abstract prints, and a few potted plants were sprinkled around. It definitely didn't feel much like a teenage boy's room now. She ran her hand over the patchwork quilt, suspecting that Mary had been responsible for most of the changes. 

There was a quiet knock on the door, and a soft voice called "Betty?"

"Come on in, Arch," she replied, dragging herself back to a sitting position.

A familiar shock of red hair appeared around the door. "You settling in ok?"

Betty glanced at her unopened bags. "This is beautiful. I can't believe it's the same room."

He shrugged off the compliment and the non-answer. "Yeah, so I know it's late, but I thought you might be hungry. I took a chance and ordered some pizza." 

Betty thought he sounded hopeful but hesitant - maybe he was as nervous as she was. Tempted to turn down his invitation and just crawl under the covers, she was called out by her stomach grumbling loudly. She switched on her smile again, "Sounds great! I'll be right down." 

Archie nodded and retreated, and, as he closed the door, Betty slumped. She took a moment, inhaled deeply, and shook out her shoulders. With one last look around the room, she tightened her ponytail and made her way downstairs.

\------

Sitting at the island in Archie's kitchen brought a wave of nostalgia for Betty. Granted, she hadn't usually been necking a bottle of beer in her past visits, but there was comfort in the familiarity of sitting in the Andrews' house on a Saturday night.

"So…?" began Archie, swigging a mouthful of beer and raising an eyebrow.

"This is great, Archie." Betty cringed. She knew her cheerfulness was too forced - she could hear it in her voice.

Archie's eyes narrowed. If the look had come from almost anyone else, Betty would have described it as 'knowing.' 

"You were very quiet on the drive up tonight." His eyes bored into her, never wavering.

"I was tired. It's been a long day," she replied, still not able to make eye contact.

Archie put his bottle down and placed both hands squarely on the counter. He leaned forward as a heavy silence filled the room - Betty didn't feel like filling it. She picked at the label on her beer bottle.

Archie's patience gave in. "Wanna talk about it?"

Betty peeled off a long section of the label, "Not really. Not yet. I'm still figuring stuff out."

Archie pushed back of the counter and selected another slice of pizza. "Ok - but you know I'm here when you do, don't you?"

"Thanks, Arch," she replied, still picking at the label, still avoiding eye contact. Archie reached over and gently touched her hand to stop her. Betty stiffened, then rose, slowly drawing her hand away from Archie's. "You know, it's late, and I'm really tired. I've had a long day. I could really use some sleep."

Archie withdrew, "Yeah, of course. G'night, Betty." 

She turned when she got to the kitchen door and said softly, "Thanks, Archie. For everything." 

"Betty," he started, then paused. He tried again. "I have to know, Betty. Did you come back here for me?" 

Betty finally looked him in the eyes, searching them, but she found she couldn't read them the way she used to. "No, Archie. I didn't. But I came back here because it's where you are." Archie looked confused. Betty continued, "I need to… regroup and heal," she said, trying to find the words. "And I need to face up to my past. And being around you feels more like home than I've had for years." Tears slipped silently down her cheeks as Archie crossed the kitchen to pull her close, shushing her quietly.

"It's ok Betty, I just had to check." He smoothed her hair and pushed her back a little so he could look into her eyes. "I didn't want you trying to rebound into my arms," he said with a laugh. "No, I've tried that before," she replied, barely audibly.

Betty shook her head and pulled away from Archie, giving him her first genuine smile since she arrived. She pointed at the stairs. "So, I'm going to go and try to sleep. I genuinely am exhausted. Goodnight, Archie." 

He patted her gently on the shoulder and watched as she slipped upstairs.

\------

Archie knew he should have felt relieved as he started to clear away the leftovers. When Betty had called to ask about coming to stay, he'd been worried. Not so worried that he thought of refusing - Betty needed help, and he could give her that. It was that simple. She was still his oldest friend, and he was glad that she seemed to only want that. Nothing more. 

He couldn't help but wonder why she'd chosen to come back here, though. None of her family was here now, and he wasn't entirely convinced by what she'd said earlier about him 'feeling like home.' And what 'past' did she want to face up to here? He stopped as he poured out the remains of Betty's beer and let out a long breath, feeling like an idiot. Checking the time on the phone, he paused for a moment, then grabbed his keys and headed out the front door.

\------

Pop's on a Saturday night was one of Jughead Jones' favorite places. Once the families had cleared out from their early evening dinners, and the teenagers' curfews had kicked in, few chose to spend their Saturday night there. Those later hours were the preserve of those just 'passing through' or the loners with no lives: people like him. "Just the nighthawks," as Pop used to say. They might as well slap a reserved sign on the end booth on a Saturday night as, if he was in town, you could guarantee you would find him there into the small hours.

And so when Archie Andrews pushed open the door of Pop's just after midnight, he saw a familiar figure hunched over a laptop in the corner of the diner. He approached the dimly lit booth, seemingly unnoticed.

"Archie," Jughead drawled in a flat, bored tone, eyes never leaving his screen. "What can I do for you?"

Archie raised his eyebrows, "Can I sit?"

Jughead glanced at him and gestured something with his eyes that Archie took to mean "ok" and sat down.

A few moments of silence passed as Archie steeled himself. Jughead leaned back, arms folded across his chest. "We don't do social chit-chat, Archie. What do you want?" 

"How long are you in town for?" Archie asked, trying to delay the inevitable.

"A couple of weeks. I just got in today." His replies were short and impatient.

Archie nodded. Jughead glared at him.

Archie sighed, unable to put it off any longer. "She's back, Jug."

\------

Jughead wasn't sure how long he and Archie sat there in silence before Archie finally asked if he was ok. 

"Why is she back? When?" Jughead tried to keep his voice flat, not wanting to betray any emotion, but he knew Archie could see right through that. It didn't matter that they had barely spoken since high school.

"I don't know all the details, Jug. But her marriage is over. I picked her up from the airport tonight. She's staying with me until she decides what to do next." Archie looked at his old friend, trying to read his demeanor before continuing. "I don't know if it's temporary or if she's back for good. I don't think she knows herself. I just wanted to give you a heads up before you run into each other"

Jughead was staring at the table, silent again. Archie couldn't think of what more to say. As Jughead had said, they didn't socialize anymore. He waited for another few seconds then made to leave. He'd only gone a few steps when Jughead grabbed his arm, turning him around. 

Jughead cleared his throat, "Thanks, Archie. I appreciate it."

Archie just nodded in reply and walked back out of the diner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos so far - it means a lot.
> 
> Once again, this chapter is un-beta'd so hopefully not full of errors. Hope you like it x.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty's return to Riverdale lifts her spirits - Jughead, not so much.

The gnawing in the pit of Betty's stomach was still there when she woke on Sunday. She lay in the dark, waiting for the sun to rise, trying to push her anxiety back down inside and focus on positive thoughts. Unsure of what hours Archie kept these days, she tried to make as little noise as possible as she gave in, dressed in her running clothes, and grabbed her trainers. 

Sitting on Archie's front steps, she laced her shoes and fumbled with her earbuds, trying not to glance across to her old home. It had been dark when she arrived, so it was easy to ignore - along with any accompanying memories. It was strange which ones came back first. So many things, good and bad, had occurred in that house. So many moments seared into her brain. Her eyes unconsciously drifted to her old bedroom window when her mind conjured the image of a boy on a ladder. Trying to shake it off, she selected a playlist and set off in the direction of the river.

It wasn't long before she was striding out along the tree-lined bank of the Sweetwater, drawing the cool, dawn air into her lungs. She was used to chilly morning runs in San Francisco, savoring those when the fog enveloped the bay. But this was different. The air here was colder and clearer: crisp and full of the scent of wet leaves and fresh running water. The trees stretched out and up, ahead and above her. And she was blissfully, completely alone. 

Betty considered life in San Francisco as she ran. Moving to the studio apartment had given her some distance from which to review her relationship: moving a couple of thousand miles east gave her the space to review her whole life. Her time in California had ended with a whimper rather than a bang. A long, drawn-out whimper that finally concluded when she discovered Adam's affair. Or was it affairs plural? She still wasn't sure. She supposed that she should have seen it coming - the signs were unmistakable had she bothered to look for them. If she allowed herself to admit it, even without the cheating, she would have left eventually. She'd already begun to see herself turning into her mother - throwing herself into work to cover for the fact that she was in an unhappy marriage. The ending was inevitable.

Betty slowed to a walk as the trees thinned out as the path neared the edge of the Sweetwater as the bank gave way to a beach of sorts. She made her way to the water's edge and perched on a large rock, taking in the tall maple trees on the opposite side and the light mist hovering over the water. God, how she had missed this place!

Her mind drifted back to the previous night's conversation - about regrouping and healing, and the feeling of home. Even as she'd said those things, she wasn't sure how much she'd believed them. But sitting here, despite all the bad that had happened in the past. Even though she had experienced so much pain, nothing felt as right as being back here. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, each breath soothing and calming her anxiety. It felt good to be home.

\------

Archie was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast when Betty returned. "Still the early riser, I see," he said. "Juice?"

He handed her a large glass of freshly squeezed orange when she nodded. "I thought I'd just make breakfast here this morning. I wasn't sure if you would be up to Pop's yet", he continued, looking at her with apprehension.

Betty gave him a strange look. "Pop's is one of the things I'm most looking forward to. It's one of my favorite memories of here."

"Yeah, I know," said Archie. "I just didn't want to assume anything. I figured I could make some bacon and eggs while you get showered after your run," he added quickly.  
  
"You don't have to protect me, Archie," Betty smiled as she spoke, "I'm going to run into people. It's a small town; people will know I'm back." She set the glass of juice back down, "Bacon and eggs would be great. Give me fifteen minutes," and she jogged out the room as Archie stared after her.

True to her word, Betty was back downstairs in just under a quarter of an hour, showered, changed, and pulling her hair into her signature ponytail. "This looks great, Arch!" She seemed surprised as she took in the spread of crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and piles of toast as she tied her hair up into her signature ponytail. "It's very 'domestic' for you," she added coyly, "I'm pretty sure you couldn't even boil an egg the last time I saw you."

"Well, I've done a lot of growing up since you knew me last."

"It seems like the Navy agreed with you. Why'd you leave?"

Archie shrugged, "I'd done my time. I was ready to come home. I missed this place, you know?"

Betty gave him a wry smile, "I do know."

\------

Jughead woke late on Sunday morning. He wasn't sure how or when he'd got back to the Pembrooke the previous night. His head was throbbing, and his mouth tasted like something had died in it. And why did it feel like he was still fully dressed?

He experimentally opened his left eye. A half-empty bottle of tequila sat on the nightstand. He groaned. That at least partially explained things, although at first, he couldn't remember why he'd been drinking. Then it came back. Betty. Betty had decided to return to Riverdale. He closed his eyes again and hoped he was dreaming the whole thing. It didn't work.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he opened his eyes properly. He sat up a little, looking around the room and his meager belongings scattered around it. The temptation to stuff everything back in his duffel bag and split then and there was verging on overwhelming. The urge to run was never far for Jughead. He'd done it before, but he was almost 30 now; it was hardly a mature option. Moreover, he'd promised Veronica he'd cover Marta's full vacation. He winced when he thought about the obscenely expensive tequila again. Veronica had said it was for emergencies, hadn't she? He was sure he could make a compelling case that this met those criteria.

Resting his head in his hands, he attempted to organize his thoughts better. Too many memories were jostling for position in his still aching head. He lashed out in frustration and punched the pillow at his side, temporarily stilling the inner noise. He needed a shower, then food - and everything else could wait until after.

Standing in Veronica's kitchen twenty minutes later, he waited for the coffee machine to work its magic, shoveling cereal into his mouth and debating making toast. He stared out the window overlooking the Pembrooke's substantial grounds, over towards the old stable block at the other end of the garden. It seemed like Veronica had finally completed the renovations, adding yet another property to her portfolio. He imagined it wouldn't command quite the same rental as her others in New York, Paris, and London. How much realistically could you ask for a luxury apartment in Riverdale? Who, given a choice, would even want to live here knowing its history and reputation? Betty Cooper, apparently - that's who. Jughead sighed, wishing he could push her farther from his thoughts. But who was he trying to kid - he'd thought about her every day for the past 12 years. Why should today be any different?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this chapter is un-beta'd so hopefully not full of errors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty tries to adjust to life back in Riverdale, but a chance encounter throws her off balance.

Sunday at the Andrews' proved to be a laid-back affair. Betty pored over the newspaper for much of the morning. The afternoon was spent unpacking her suitcases, making herself at home in Archie's old room. Over dinner, they exchanged small talk about the town, and the job Archie was starting on Monday morning. Betty was impressed with how skilfully they both avoided specific topics. She gently teased Archie about where, or whom, he'd 'slunk off to' so late the previous night. Archie shrugged it off, "I never kiss and tell, you know that, Betty." The topic of Betty's life in California never came up - it seemed that Archie knew better than to ask again.

Sunday slipped into Monday, and Archie was back to work, leaving Betty with more time to herself than she was strictly happy with. Left unchecked, she knew her mental health would suffer - and a life lacking structure was not a good starting point. For the first time that she could recall, she had nothing to do and nowhere to be. 

Over the next couple of days, she tried to establish a new routine: a long run along the river and back in the morning, picking up newspapers on her way in. She lost herself in the minutiae of European politics, bush fires in Australia, and the latest innovations to clean up the plastics polluting the world's oceans. Print journalism, it seemed, was in her blood. When she started at Yale, she was sure she'd pick another career, keeping her options open with her course selections. But she'd never imagined being there on her own - miles from home, alone and isolated, having burned so many bridges. She found herself applying to the Yale Daily News just for something to fill her spare time. By the time she graduated, she was applying for jobs with the country's most respected papers. 

Afternoons were trickier to fill. Archie left her keys to his car, but she found herself reluctant to stray too far. On Monday, she'd gone to the store, and by the time Archie returned, the kitchen island was stacked high with home-baked cookies and muffins. Tuesday was spent sitting in a chair by the window, alternately watching the rain and catching up with the latest issue of the  _ New Yorker. _ A large plate of baked goods balanced precariously in her lap, legs tucked beneath her in an attempt to stop the relentless bouncing of her knee.

The movers arrived late on Wednesday morning, giving Betty the kind of purposeful activity she was missing. She checked off each of the numbered boxes on her handwritten inventory, determining which should go to storage and which she wanted now. She vacillated over one or two but mostly stayed true to the list she'd drawn up weeks before. 

Two hours later, Betty and her belongings were alone in a dark room only slightly smaller than her old garage. It looked pitifully empty despite the stacks of boxes and the few pieces of furniture. A lump started to form in her throat as she took stock. Here she was, aged 30, homeless with all of her possessions stacked in the corner of a faceless warehouse. And worst of all, this was all her own choice. She took a deep breath and turned and locked the door. Wrapping her arms around her body, she trudged through the drizzle back towards Archie's car. She visualized the boxes in his hallway, knowing she should head straight back to clear them. Throwing her purse on the passenger seat, she flopped in behind the steering wheel, resting her forehead against it. Maybe she should just drive for a little while, see if it cleared her head any.

She arrived at Pop's without even realizing that was where she'd been heading. In some respects, she couldn't believe that it had taken her so long. She paused in the parking lot, taking in the view, noticing that from the outside, it seemed unchanged. She wondered if Veronica still owned it and if her speakeasy was still in the basement. Once again, she forced her mind away before it dredged up memories that she couldn't yet face.

Pushing open the door, Betty scanned the interior. Nostalgia washed over her: the waitresses were even wearing the same vintage-style uniforms she remembered. But while the fixtures and fittings seemed identical, she saw no familiar faces. No one welcomed her back with a smile and a hug. She wondered if Pop had retired and belatedly if he was even still alive. At one time, she'd have given anything to feel anonymous in this town, but now it was odd not to be recognized. Shaken from her reverie by a waitress's voice, she placed an order and, without thinking, slipped into the second booth on the left, her back to the door.

The food was just as she remembered. A meal anywhere else, even if it was objectively better, never tastes as good as the diner in your home town, does it? Betty tried to recall the last time she had eaten alone at Pop's. Had that ever happened? She'd certainly never felt lonely here before - that was definitely new. For the first time in days, she acknowledged the doubts bubbling in her subconscious. She worried that the feelings of healing she experienced when running out by the river could be so quickly undone. She had so wanted a return to Riverdale to feel like a homecoming. Instead, she was just sitting in a diner in a small town where she knew no one. Well, except Archie. She still had Archie. 

Betty was considering leaving when the bell above the door signaled a new customer. Without thinking, she glanced over her shoulder to see who had walked in, and time stopped. He stood stock-still, staring in her direction. He looked good. He'd filled out a little, a bit less scrawny than when she'd last seen him. He was dressed in much the same way, though - dark jeans, boots, plaid shirt over a tee, leather jacket. No hat. She noted that he made no attempt to greet her or move towards her in any way, but then neither had she. She pulled herself back into the present and gathered her purse and jacket, leaving a few bills on the counter as she pushed by him and almost ran out of the diner.

\------

Jughead had spent almost three full days writing, stopping only when his stomach grumbled too loudly, or he passed out, exhausted. There was no desire to question the sudden inspiration he'd felt in his hungover state on Sunday morning - he didn't think he'd like the answer. By Wednesday, he'd channeled all his frustrations, longing, and confusion into around ten thousand words or so. He also realized that he hadn't left the apartment or even showered since the weekend. Mildly concerned about turning into a hermit, he figured he should take a genuine break. He filled the coffee machine and rinsed the jug out, setting it to brew a fresh pot while he took a shower.

He couldn't lie; a long hot shower and clean clothes made him feel at least several times better. He poured a large mug of coffee as he surveyed the state of the kitchen. The effects of his three-day writing binge surrounded him. Pizza boxes, burger cartons, and the remains of some questionable tacos littered every surface, all joined by a sprinkling of beer bottles. He was relieved that Veronica hadn't dropped in for a surprise visit. Straightening out his mess took the remainder of the morning, and it was early afternoon before he thought the apartment's appearance was bordering on acceptable. Quickly making a list of groceries to pick up later, he grabbed his laptop and headed to Pop's to read and edit the previous days' ramblings.

Jughead's motorcycle pulled into Pop's just ahead of Reggie Mantle's latest muscle car. Reggie gave him a mock salute, and Jughead nodded back as he hung his crash helmet over the handlebars. He hoped Reggie wasn't in the mood for talking. Sometimes Jughead wished Reggie had stayed the douchebag bully he'd been in tenth grade. The events of their junior and senior years, however, had changed their relationship. They weren't friends - that would be too much - but they were something. And that something sometimes meant that Reggie tried to get Jughead to engage in social niceties, regardless of Jughead's view on the subject. At least Reggie was still oblivious to others' feelings - that much was reassuringly constant.

Today, Jughead just wanted to hide out in his usual booth with a burger and a bottomless coffee and mercilessly cut and rework his 'stream of consciousness.' But all that flew out the window the instant he walked through the door and saw her blonde ponytail. It only worsened when she turned to look at him. He was still processing as she pushed past him and ran across the parking lot. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder as Reggie gave a low whistle. "Was that Betty Cooper? Damn, she looks good!"

Jughead glared at him.

Reggie held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, just saying! No harm, no foul, right? But you gotta admit…?"

Jughead didn't wait for Reggie to finish. He barged past him out of the diner, jumped back on the bike, and sped out of the lot. He rode upriver following its course until he reached a lookout giving him a spectacular view of the valley, river, and town stretching out before him. Rooting around in his messenger bag, he pulled out the monogrammed notebook Veronica bought him years earlier. He allowed himself to smile as he traced the little crown and 'FPJ III' embossed into its cover before reaching into the pocket at the back. Carefully, he pulled out the few tattered-edged photographs he stored in there. 

Jughead smiled again as he looked at the first one - Veronica and JB, with arms around each other, pouting at the camera the day the younger woman graduated from college. He kept that one on top because he was always happy to see that picture. The others... well, he had to be in the right headspace for them. And that headspace was melancholic and self-destructive. He took a deep breath and flicked the top photo to the bottom of the small stack. 

He moved quickly past the black and white picture of him and Archie, goofing around with a tray of donuts, and then past one of the four of them in a booth at Pop's. Sure they both hurt, but not in the specific way Jughead needed it to in that exact moment. The next photo hit him like the hammer blow he was looking for - the Homecoming dance, sophomore year. It was early in their relationship, about three weeks after he'd taken the plunge and kissed her after sneaking into her room. He remembered how nervous he'd felt... how long he'd wanted to before he dared... how amazing it felt when she smiled as he pulled away. The little knot of pain that had been slowly growing in his chest blossomed into full flower now. He flicked through the next few. Betty delivering her speech at the Jubilee, the night he told her that he loved her for the first time. A picture of them celebrating FP's fiftieth birthday. Then finally, the photos he'd taken of her working at the Blue & Gold - deep in thought, hunched over a keyboard, chewing on a pencil. Those were the ones when she was at her most beautiful to him. Those were the ones that hit him hardest. He had no idea how long he sat there, staring at each of them before slipping them gently back inside the notebook. Hugging his knees to his chest, he let his head drop forward, replaying memories like an old movie in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't keep them apart any longer really... time to start getting into the meat of this thing!
> 
> Once again - all un'beta'd. Thanks for all the comments and kudos so far x.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still coming to terms with their first encounter, Betty and Jughead run into each other again a week later

Archie never mentioned that Betty seemed in low spirits on Wednesday evening, but she could tell he sensed it. She knew she was quieter and more reserved than usual, and her eyes still felt hot and puffy - the redness had faded before he got home, thank God. If asked, Betty was sure she could blame it on her belongings arriving. Archie hadn't made a single complaint about them still being piled in the hall when he got home and happily carried them up to his old room for her. He even offered to cook dinner afterward.

He ventured a question as he presented her with a bowl of pasta. "So, what're your plans for the rest of this week?" 

"Nothing yet. I'll have to sort through my boxes, but I'll probably just do what I've already been doing. A long run in the morning and then errands or reading in the afternoon." Betty sampled a small mouthful of pasta, which was surprisingly good. "This is really great, Arch. You really  _ have  _ learned to cook."

"I told you I was a changed man," he replied, flashing her a quick wink. He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before deciding to speak again. "Look... you know you can stay here as long as you like, Betty. My door is always, will always be open to you. And feel free to keep baking - my crew will happily keep eating whatever you make." He smiled, pausing again. "But what is your plan? I know you, or at least I used to. You need a plan - you need structure."

Betty blinked back a tear, swallowing the lump in her throat before she spoke. "You sound so like your dad." 

"Well, he was a wise man - maybe more of that rubbed off on me than I thought," he replied with a cheeky grin. 

Betty gave him an exaggerated eye-roll. "I know I need to do something, but I don't want to make any quick decisions. That hasn't served me well in the past."

"Adam?" he raised one eyebrow as he speared a piece of pasta with his fork.

"Adam. California. The job. Everything. I… it…" She sighed. "It all seemed like a good idea at the time."

Archie looked as though he was going to ask for more information before visibly changing his mind.

"Ok, I get that... but don't you like... need to earn some money at some point?"

Betty gave a small laugh. "I guess. I've got enough savings to tide me over for a while, and I'll get money in the divorce. I'm in a pretty privileged position financially. I don't have to rush around looking for another full-time job. I don't even know what I want to do next in terms of work."

"I thought as much," Archie replied a little smugly, pushing his empty plate away. "It's just that one of my guy's… well, his wife opened a bookstore in the town last year, and it's been going pretty well for her. Apparently, she'll need someone to help out a few days a week, especially in the run-up to the holiday season. I thought that might be the kind of thing you'd like. I said I'd mention it to you." 

Betty couldn't help but smile at Archie's devious grin. It was so easy for people to assume that he was utterly guileless, but that would be to underestimate him. Not for the first time, she wondered how much it suited Archive for people to think of him as just a dumb, good-looking guy. She was sure it still played well with the ladies.

She peered at him through narrowed eyes, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Sounds interesting. Maybe I'll drop by."

"Great, Angela is expecting you to drop by tomorrow," he replied, ducking to avoid being hit in the face with a scrunched up tea towel. 

\------

Instead of spending Thursday morning pouring over the newspapers with a gigantic mug of herbal tea, Betty strolled into town to look for the new bookshop. She pulled up short when she realized it was the old Riverdale Register office. Making a mental note to cast that up to Archie later, she wondered why it bothered her. It wasn't a surprise that it had closed. The paper had ceased operation years ago: she'd heard it had been sold to the Centerville Chronicle. It felt strange all the same, for things to be the same, only different.

Looking through the windows, Betty could see it had been completely remodeled. Pale wooden bookcases lined the walls, save for a gap where the door led into what she knew was a smaller room in the back. The floor had been stripped and revarnished. A large table sat in the middle of the room, holding piles of new releases and recommendations on little chalkboard signs. Two old leather armchairs sat in a corner - Betty could imagine customers sitting there for hours at a time. A desk stood in front of the back wall, where a petite black woman pored over an iPad.

Betty took a deep breath and pushed open the door, a small bell sounding as she did so. The woman behind the desk looked up and smiled. "Hello, can I help you?"

"Hi," Betty paused. "Are you Angela?"

"Hi, Betty?" The shop owner bounded from behind the desk, sticking a hand out immediately. "Please, call me Angie. You found us then?"

"I did. My parents used to run the old newspaper from this building years ago." Betty replied apprehensively, shaking Angie's hand.

"Oh," said Angie. Then another "oh," but this time with recognition. "Those Coopers?"

"Yep - that's me. Hal Cooper's daughter," Betty shrugged, her words dripping with sarcastic enthusiasm, adding, "Is that an issue?"

"God, no! Shit, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Honestly." Betty smiled, genuinely sorry that her response had left Angie flustered. "It's been a while since I met someone new that is familiar with my family's reputation." She continued, pausing before the last word to give the euphemism more emphasis.

Angie looked as if she had a dozen questions she wanted to ask. Having no desire to prolong that particular discussion, Betty continued quickly. "So Archie said you were looking for some part-time help. What do you need?"

Angie looked relieved at the change of subject and looked pensive for a moment. "Would you like a coffee?" she asked finally. 

Betty felt her shoulders relax and smiled. "Coffee would be great. Thanks."

Angie gestured to Betty to take a seat as she vanished through the office door. She returned a few moments later carrying a tray with a large french press, two mugs, and cream and sugar. "This is my secret to keeping customers in the shop," Angie whispered conspiratorially. "If you make them a nice cup of coffee when they are browsing, they kinda feel obliged to buy something." Betty smiled warmly - she had a strong feeling that she and Angie would get along just fine. 

By the time Betty left the bookshop an hour later, they'd arranged for her to work three mornings a week as a start, then take it from there. She walked back to Archie's with a definite spring in her step for the first time since she'd returned.

\------

Jughead was grateful that his two weeks at Veronica's were almost over. Although it felt like months had passed, it was only a week since his run-in with Betty at Pop's. Since then, he'd tried to avoid the place - even forgoing his usual Saturday night visit. Despite knowing the chances that she'd turn up in the middle of the night were virtually non-existent - you can never be too careful now, can you?

For days he'd shopped out of town, driving to Centerville for groceries; lived off his meager cooking skills and home deliveries. Occasionally he'd gone out on his bike, riding way too hard and way too fast. The output of his writing binge from the previous weekend remained unedited. He struggled to engage with anything he tried to watch. He crackled with irritability, and a permanent tension headache had taken up residence behind his eyes. 

When he woke on Thursday morning, he knew he was at risk of slipping into depression. He'd danced with it before and wasn't keen to repeat the experience. Forcing himself to get up and out at a reasonable hour, he decided on the only kind of retail therapy he could stand (and that Riverdale could offer) - books.

Jughead loved Angie's bookstore. Truth be told, he loved just about any bookstore, but small independent ones were balm to his soul. Each had its own personality, its own idiosyncracies. Angie's was no different, and he could browse her eclectic selection of titles for hours. It was the kind of place he could happily linger and chat, exchanging recommendations and reviews. It was one of the few places he felt he belonged.

The store was empty when Jughead wandered in, but he could hear voices drifting from the office behind the desk. He lifted a book from the new releases' table, starting to read the text on the jacket. Momentarily, he heard Angie's voice behind him. "Well, hello there, stranger. I haven't seen you around here for a while. Here to provide me with more recommendations for my table?" she said.

"No, just browsing today," replied Jughead, "And to pick up that order I placed months ago... if you still kept it, that is." 

"Of course I kept it, Jughead." She narrowed her eyes in a mock frown.

He gave her one of his sheepish, lop-sided grins. "Thanks. So how's business?"

"Business is good," she replied enthusiastically. "I've had to hire someone to help me part-time. It's making a huge difference - she's already been a massive help though she only started last week. I'm sure the back office is better organized already. Go on back and say hi - she'll find your order for you".

Jughead nodded, and even as he walked towards the office, he knew viscerally who he was going to find there. He would say that he could sense her presence, but that was just him being overly dramatic - as usual. But still, when he opened the door and found Betty Cooper behind it, he was in no way surprised.

\------

Jughead took a moment to observe Betty before announcing his presence. He hadn't had the chance at Pop's - the shock and the brevity of that encounter made it impossible. Her back was slightly turned to him, so he couldn't see all of her face. Regardless, he knew she was concentrating - brow furrowed, pencil between her teeth. Her ponytail was perfect - it always had been - pulled tight and worn high on her head, the ends curling slightly towards her neck. He tried not to focus too much on the patch of skin just below her ear. She was dressed much as she had when they were kids - blue jeans, pale sweater, and white sneakers. She suddenly reached up to the shelf above, causing her top to ride high, exposing a little band of skin above her waistband. He thought he might have caught a glimpse of what might be a small tattoo on her hip. He felt a pang in his chest as he looked away - trying to pull himself together.

"Hi." His voice croaked a little as he got the word out - as if he hadn't used it for days and wasn't sure if it still worked. Betty turned around, a little startled, and he continued before she could speak. "I… um… I have a couple of books on order to collect". God, why did he stumble over his words around her, he thought. He felt like an awkward fifteen-year-old again.

"Hi. Yes. Right. Of course. Orders are kept just over here," she said, not making eye contact, reaching past him to a shelf in the corner. The room wasn't tiny by any means, but already he was starting to feel claustrophobic.

Betty found the correct parcel and handed it over, careful not to make contact. Jughead was relieved. He remembered only too well the electricity that used to pass between them every time they touched. He didn't think he could bear to feel it again. Or worse, to touch her and not feel it.

"So I guess you are staying in town for a while then?" Jughead asked quietly, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, maybe, I guess," Betty looked at the floor. Jughead stared at her hands while she struggled to decide what to do with them - moving them first from her side to her pockets, then clasped in front of her stomach. It was clear the nerves weren't only on his side.

"California didn't agree with you?" he asked gently. Then more quietly, "I'd heard, you know, that you had moved to California."

"Things didn't really work out there, so I'm taking some time to work out what I should do next." Her hands moved to her back pockets this time.

An awkward silence fell on the room. It was as if neither were sure how to navigate the conversation they appeared to be having. Betty broke the silence first. "Are you well?"

"Keeping busy," he replied non-committally, "I do a lot of freelance stuff, takes me here and there."

Betty shrugged at the non-answer. "That's good." 

The conversation stalled once more. It seemed strange to Jughead that two people who had once been so close - known each other better than anyone else in the world, so intimately - could struggle to exchange even a few sentences with each other. The sadness in the air was palpable.

After what felt like an eternity, Jughead cleared his throat. "So, thanks for this," he said, holding up the package she'd given him. "I guess I'll see you around," and he turned to leave.

"Yeah. I'll see you around," Betty repeated to the retreating figure, then more quietly, "Happy Birthday Jug." 

Jughead closed the door of the bookstore behind him and released the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He thought he'd managed to keep it together ok, at least until he heard Betty wish him a happy birthday. He felt his throat tighten just at the thought of it again. Before he could think the better of it, he glanced back through the windows, but she was out of sight. Somehow he felt both relieved and sick to his stomach. A pain in his chest tightened as he simultaneously couldn't bear to look at her but was desperate to see her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, un-beta'd.
> 
> Thanks for the comments and kudos so far. They really do help me focus on continuing with the story x.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Lodge returns to town.

The walk back to the Pembrooke seemed to take longer than usual, but Jughead suspected that it was just his perception of time that was warped. He had to admit that the past few days - probably since Archie had walked into Pop's that night - had been a blur. His mind was a mess - a jumble of memories and regrets jostling for prime position in his thoughts. Events and feelings from the past that he usually kept locked away were flooding his brain. Not for the first time, he wondered if he'd made the right decisions.

Trying to think objectively about things, Jughead forced himself to return to the events of 12 years before. Everything had gone to hell in just a few short weeks. Charles had been arrested for making the strange videotapes that had harassed the town. Soon more of his crimes were uncovered, and he implicated FP in the cover-up of the murder at the Coopers' house. Jughead suspected it was as much of a 'fuck you' to the parents who had abandoned him as much as it was a bid for leniency. It definitely had the effect of lobbing a hand grenade into the family. In a bid to save Alice and Betty, FP had confessed to killing the man and hiding the body, and later moving it with Charles, earning a lengthy jail sentence in the process. It would be another ten years at least before he was eligible for parole. At FP's insistence, Alice took Polly and the twins across the country - to get them away from Charles and Chic and the stigma of the previous three years of their lives. And then there was Betty... he'd thought they could survive it. Thought they could survive anything. Apparently, there was one thing they couldn't survive. 

He wiped the back of his hand over his eyes angrily. No, he wasn't going to think about Betty just now. He wasn't going to think of her face as he told her it was over. Wasn't going to think about her leaving in the middle of the night with no goodbye to anyone. And he definitely wasn't going to think about his choice never to contact her in the intervening years. Not today - maybe not ever. 

He opened the door to Veronica's apartment and paused in the hallway. Throwing his head back, he ran his fingers through his hair and groaned. With a sigh, he sloped off towards the kitchen, throwing his books and jacket on the sofa as he passed. He'd almost made it when a small, dark-haired figure bounced out holding two bottles of beer.

"Feliz cumpleaños, Torombolo." Veronica bounded to him, throwing her arms around his neck, still holding the beer bottles.

"Hey, Veronica," he said flatly, dropping a small kiss on the top of her head.

Veronica dropped her arms and regarded him with annoyance.  
"Wow, Jughead. I know you don't like your birthday, but seriously. I expected a better reaction than that." 

He sighed again and gave her a lopsided grin, "Sorry. I'm glad you're here. I missed you." He moved his jacket and books and sat slumped on the edge of the sofa.

"Ok, Jones, you're forgiven." She passed him one of the beers and plonked herself on the sofa beside him, kicking off her shoes in the process. "So what has got you so particularly grouchy today?"

Jughead dragged his eyes up to meet Veronica's. "She's back."

\------

Veronica's first instinct was to ask a flood of questions but reconsidered when she saw his expression. She placed her bottle on the coffee table, then gently removed the bottle from his hands to place it beside the first. She held eye contact and tried to respect the silence - waiting for him to speak. Minutes passed. Eventually, she reached out and took both his hands in her own and squeezed gently. 

"I don't think I want to talk about it, Veronica." he croaked. "I'm not sure I can."

She dropped his hands and pulled her legs up under herself on the sofa. Then reaching out, she pulled him over until his head rested in her lap. As he lay there, she was reminded of all the times she'd done this before. Mostly just after they moved to New York years earlier. When JB was asleep in her room, and Marta gone for the day, and they'd sit and talk, and drink and cry, and hold onto each other as if their lives depended on it. Maybe they had - at first, it had felt like they were all each other had. A tear slipped down her cheek as the memories came back and, without thinking, she hugged him a little tighter.

"Hey," he said gently, turning his head around to look at her. "Are you ok?" 

"Am I ok?" she laughed, wiping away another tear, "I'm supposed to be comforting you."

He sat up gently and grinned, "And you are doing a lousy job of it, Lodge."

They glared at each other until they both started to laugh.

"So what happens now, Jug?"

"I don't know. But I can't face running into her again just now."

"When did she get back?" Veronica ventured.

"Same day I did. Archie came to Pop's to warn me that evening."

"Archie did?" Veronica could barely disguise the astonishment in her voice. "Didn't see that coming."

"Well, she's staying with him just now." The bitterness was evident in his voice.

"Is she staying long?"

"She's taken a job at the bookstore, so I'd say she's more than passing through."

Veronica was silent for a moment, considering the options. "Do you want to take off?"

"I think I have to, don't you?"

"Maybe, Jughead." She checked the time, "It's not too late, is it."

"No, if I leave now, I'll get there before it's dark." He looked at her worried expression. "I'll even take the truck rather than the bike if it makes you feel better."

"Yes, that would make me feel better," she pouted. "Right, go pack and get the hell out of here."

Veronica paced the room as Jughead packed his bag. As much as she tried not to worry about him, she remembered the darker times over the past few years. He'd always had a self-destructive streak. In New York, it had manifested in heavy drinking and bouts of depression. In recent years, he'd been doing better, but you never knew what might trigger a relapse. Betty Cooper seemed like an obvious candidate. 

Jughead reappeared as Veronica considered asking him to go back to New York with her, but deep down, she knew that wasn't what he needed.  
She hugged him ferociously as he was leaving. 

"Promise me, Jug… I want you to check in with me every few days, but I'll accept once a week. And you better get your ass back here for Thanksgiving."

He gave her another of his lopsided smiles and ruffled her hair, the way he used to do to his sister. "Roger that."

Veronica backed away, still holding both his hands, smiling at him sadly. "It'll all be ok. Stay safe. Love you, Jones."

He returned her smile, "Love you too, Lodge." And with that, he was gone.

She closed and locked the door and headed back to the kitchen, collecting the bottles of beer on the way. She had a mouthful from one, realized she didn't really want it, and poured the rest away. She stood with her hands braced on the sink, trying to work out the best course of action. She could, of course, just leave things alone and see how it all turned out. She didn't have to analyze that thought too much to know it wasn't her style.

\------

The sound of a sports car pulling up outside his house surprised Archie, but not nearly as much as finding Veronica Lodge on his doorstep a moment later. She stood on the porch as immaculate as ever. He smiled despite himself.

"Veronica Lodge. Just when I thought my day couldn't get any stranger."

"Archie." It was a statement more than a greeting, a little staid and awkward. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. I'm still a little confused, though. Why are you here?"

Veronica sighed, dropping her head to the side a little as if the answer should be obvious. "I'm here to see our girl. And to see if she is in a better state than he is."

"In a better state than he is? Who?" Archie was wide-eyed. "Jughead? Were you speaking to Jughead?" 

Veronica held her hand up to stop him. "All in time. How is she?"

Archie stood to the side to let Veronica into the hallway, from where she could see Betty curled on the couch in the fetal position with her back to the doorway. 

He shrugged. "I came home from work to find her in tears, just repeating that she thought she was ready. I put a blanket over her. I've just been watching her ever since."

Veronica nodded and patted Archie's arm. "Go. I've got this".

"Thanks, Veronica. I'm not going to lie, I'm a little out of my depth here."

Veronica raised an eyebrow as if to say, "what's new?"

\------

It was dark when Betty woke, eyes still hot and sore, her head throbbing. In the gloom, she noticed a figure sitting in the chair by the window. Too small to be Archie, it looked a bit like..., but it couldn't be. The figure moved closer, crouching down beside her, brushing her hair away from her face. 

"You saw him then?" Veronica asked gently, rearranging Betty's blanket.

"I thought I was ready. I didn't think it would still hurt so much."

Veronica climbed onto the couch and pulled Betty into her arms, tucking the blanket around them both. "Get some sleep, B." She said quietly, stroking Betty's hair until her old friend drifted off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, un'beta'd so apologies for any typos, etc.
> 
> thanks again for the comments/kudos x


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead leaves town after his run-in with Betty. Betty and Veronica start to reconnect

Jughead pulled off the highway just as the sun began to dip below the hills. He eased the truck along the narrow dirt road as it wound its way through the trees for around half a mile. The track ended at a faded blue garage, the view opening out across the lake. Turning off the engine, he paused with his hands on the wheel, listening to Eddie Vedder singing about the blackness of everything. With a sigh, he shut off the music and wandered down to the shore.

Perching on a log stump beside a small jetty, he pulled a crumpled, half-empty pack of Marlboros from his inside pocket. Staring at the fading light, he lit one and inhaled deeply. The view had changed in the two weeks he'd been away. Fall was in full swing now, and the trees were a riot of gold and red, reflected in the water as still as glass. He could hear a bird calling loudly somewhere in the distance and wondered if one of these days, he should actually learn what it was. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket - a message from JB wishing him a happy birthday. He replied with a quick snap of the view and a promise to call her soon. After a thought, he tried calling Veronica and left a short message on her voicemail when she didn't pick up - he'd call again in a few days. He stared at the phone for a moment, then switched it off and stuffed it back in his pocket. He knew Veronica and JB didn't like him being out of contact. He may have suggested that cell coverage and internet access here were patchy: it was, in fact, excellent, but they didn't need to know that. He was sure Veronica understood his need for solitude. Just as he understood that if he went silent for too long, Veronica would turn up on his doorstep to demand an explanation.

The sky was almost fully dark now, and Jughead dragged himself from the water's edge. He smiled as he climbed the steps of the cabin, running his hand along the wooden rail at the edge of the deck. He was growing fond of the place - maybe this was somewhere he could call home. He'd bought it in the spring, having stumbled across it when working on a photo assignment. He'd resisted attempts by Veronica in the past to gift him one of her properties or help him buy somewhere of his own. But this, this he'd bought on his own.

The house had seen better days when he bought it. But he remembered how enthusiastic Veronica had been when he brought her here for the first time. She had bounced from room to room, clapping her hands, full of ideas on how to upgrade it. He loved that side of her - the one most people never saw. He chuckled as he thought of her as his own personal cheerleader and was blindsided by the sudden memory of another dressed in the same uniform. He shook his head as if to try and dislodge the image. He opened the door with a heavy sigh, "Welcome home, Jug. Happy Birthday."

\------

Jughead sat on the floor in front of the fire, his back resting on the old steamer trunk he used as a coffee table. His long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, notebook in his lap. He had two lists in progress. The first for groceries - his freezer held only two lasagnas, a pint of chocolate ice cream, and a pepperoni pizza. He glanced at the empty plate beside him - correction, one lasagna. Maybe he should try and learn to cook now that he was living alone?

The second list was work to do on the house. The renovations over the summer meant the exterior was good enough to see him through the winter - now he could focus on the interior. He was proud of what he'd achieved so far. It turned out that he was good at it and had strangely enjoyed it. Working with his hands took him out of his head - he wondered if it would help force the memories of Betty from it. The sight of her that morning was seared into his brain. The anger and the hurt had come flooding back in waves - he'd anticipated that. But the longing - that desire to reach out and touch her again, to slide his hand around the small of her back... that was not expected.

His eyes drifted over to the corner where his books were piled haphazardly, alongside the stack of records JB had given him. He smiled, thinking of weekends in New York helping her search out old vinyl. As much as his passion was reading, JB's was music. She'd left her collection when she moved to London but swore she'd want it back eventually. Threats were made if he didn't look after it. He flicked through a few and slid one of his favorites out of the pile, dropping the disc on the turntable, enjoying the soft crackle before the sad, soulful vocals began. He sat back at first and then lay down on the rug in front of the fire, letting the melancholy melody and lyrics wash over him. If he couldn't fight the feeling, he may as well wallow in it. And so he lay back, closed his eyes, and let the thoughts of Betty Cooper flood his mind.

\------

Betty woke on Friday morning with a crick in her neck and a blinding pain behind her eyes. Various thoughts collided in her head, such as, 'Why am I sleeping fully clothed on the couch?' and 'Why do I feel like I have a raging hangover?' And why had she been dreaming about Veronica? She picked up her phone - almost 10 am. How long had she slept? Stretching out her neck and rolling her shoulders, she became aware of the smell of fresh coffee wafting from the kitchen and the sounds of someone moving around. Archie should be at work by now. Confused, she rose to investigate, just as Veronica entered with two large mugs.

"It's no non-fat vanilla latte, but it's the best I can do with the meager supplies to hand." Veronica grinned, passing a mug of milky coffee to an astonished Betty. 

"Veronica? How are you here? Did Archie call you?" Even as she said it, Betty knew that couldn't be true. Archie and Veronica weren't in touch. Were they? She and Archie had never broached the subject of Veronica since she moved back. 

"I heard you were back in town - news travels fast here, remember?" Veronica said, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle from her sweater.

"Yes… but you." Betty collected her thoughts. "I didn't think you lived here in town."

"I have my spies, as you know. Manhattan isn't that far away, and I still have the Pembrooke."

Betty gave a half-smile and narrowed her eyes. "You just dropped everything in New York because you heard I was back in Riverdale? V, we haven't spoken in years. Not since..."

Veronica cut Betty off with a wave of a hand. "What can I say? I felt the need to catch up and right that wrong."

Betty paused for a moment, regarding Veronica as she hugged the mug of coffee. "Veronica... we haven't spoken because of what happened. What I did..."

Veronica arched an eyebrow. "Do you _really_ want to talk about that right now?" Her voice carried a firmness that suggested Betty should change the topic.

Chastened, Betty stared down into her mug. "No, I guess not." She looked back up at Veronica. "But we can't avoid it forever - as much as I might have tried in the past."

"True, but I don't think we want to attempt it on an empty stomach or before coffee, do we?"

Betty smiled. "No, we do not."

"Ok. So get that coffee into you. Then get showered and changed, and let's go for a late breakfast. We have a lot of catching up to do."

\------

A little over an hour later, the two women were established in a booth at Pop's. 

Betty glanced around. "So, do you still own this, V?"

Veronica gave a hollow laugh. "No, there was a 'redistribution of Daddy's assets,' shall we say, after I took over that part of Lodge Industries. I transferred ownership back to Pop Tate years ago."

"So do the Lodges own anything in Riverdale now?" Betty asked.

"My parents, no. They decided it was best if they were out of the country as much as possible and passed things on to Hermosa and me years ago. Hermosa took on the rum business and some of the less 'legal' aspects of the company. I took on the rest and got rid of all the things we should never have owned - here, the prison, things like that. I kept the Pembrooke, though. For old times sake, you know?" 

"So, I imagine you don't spend much time here now?"

"No, I'm based in New York mostly. London and Paris from time to time. I'm probably only back here two or three times a year now when I need some downtime."

Betty raised an eyebrow, "You come here for downtime? Not some sun-kissed, Caribbean island?" 

Veronica shrugged. "What can I say? No one bothers me here. I don't have to book in under a fake name."

"Or wear a blonde wig?" The quip was out before Betty could stop it, and she instantly regretted it.

Veronica stared Betty directly in the eye. "You are in no position to criticize on the subject of wigs." 

Betty felt a change in the temperature as the easy familiarity evaporated, punctured by less than happy memories. Silence fell between them, only interrupted by the waitress bringing their orders. 

The arrival of the food eased some of the tension, giving them both something else to concentrate on. When finished, Veronica pushed her plate away and fixed Betty with a stare. "Right! Enough with the small talk. How did you find yourself back in Riverdale?"

Betty stared back at Veronica, slightly taken aback at the directness. She set her jaw and replied, 'matter-of-factly.' "My job and my marriage went down the drain, and I didn't want to stay out west." 

Veronica stayed silent, waiting for Betty to continue. 

The stiffness in Betty waned a little, and her shoulders relaxed. "I was working too hard, throwing myself into project after project at work. Until I finally burned out. I realized I'd been working to the point of obsession, you know?"

Veronica's expression softened - she did know. She remembered all too well the single-mindedness with which Betty had followed things in her teens. Clearly, that hadn't changed.

Betty rested her elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand. "So I took a few weeks off to take stock of my life, and I realized some more things. Mostly, I realized that I wasn't happy. Things weren't going well, and in hindsight, they hadn't been for a while." She paused, deciding whether or not to continue. "And I came to the conclusion that I had been working so much because I was avoiding being at home. I basically worked myself into the ground to avoid my husband". She gave a half-laugh. "So, that's not a good sign."

Veronica reached a hand across the table. "Oh, Betty, I'm sorry."

Betty wiped a tear from her eye. "I think that's the first time I've said that out loud."

Veronica squeezed her hand.

Betty backhanded another tear and continued. "Marrying Adam had been a mistake, and I no longer enjoyed my job. So I needed something to change. I decided to leave, which incidentally was when he told me he'd been seeing someone else. To be fair, I'm wasn't surprised, and I didn't really care by that point. So I packed up my things, said goodbye to him and San Francisco, and came home. Or as much of home as still existed." She looked back up with a more defiant look than before, regaining some of her customary poise.

"Just like that?" Veronica sounded a little shocked.

"As I said, it was all a mistake. Things had been bad for a while. I rushed into some decisions that I shouldn't have."

Veronica gave her a knowing look.

"I shouldn't have left here the way I did. I rushed away as soon as I could rather than dealing with anything. I dusted myself down, put on my best 'Betty Cooper' smile, and moved on. Or at least I thought I did. It wasn't until I separated from Adam that I realized I'd never dealt with it. I'd never processed any of those feelings."

"And now?" Veronica asked gently.

"Well… there is a hell of a lot to process," Betty gave a half-smile, "But being here is helping, I think. I underestimated the strength of some of the feelings, though. I didn't realize how much of it still hurt."

"Are you glad you came back?" Veronica asked.

Betty paused for a moment, then squeezed Veronica's hand back. "I'm glad to see you." 

Veronica smiled. "You know, way back, you and I vowed never to let a boy come between us again."

Betty stared down at the table. "Well, I truly fucked that up, didn't I?" she said quietly.

Veronica moved her head to try and catch Betty's eye. "Doesn't mean we can't try to fix it, though."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken so long to update this - life got in the way! I had planned to get this all finished before the start of Season 5, which will be a long shot as I think it is probably going to run to 12 or 13 chapters. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and apologies for the typos/mistakes - it's un'betad so they're all my own errors.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Betty and Veronica continue to reconnect, another pair also do a little reconnecting of their own...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Jughead in this chapter, just lots of B&V and a touch of Archie.
> 
> FWIW I have reworked this chapter a ridiculous number of times and I'm still not happy with it, but I think it gets everyone where I need them to be for the story to continue so I'm not going to get hung up on it any longer.

The years melted away as Veronica and Betty sat in Pop's and talked around the elephant in the room. Betty spoke about Yale, meeting Adam and throwing herself into the new relationship, moving to San Fransisco, and getting what she thought was the job of her dreams. For her part, Veronica talked about life in New York and her new business. She thought Hiram was proud of her, in his own way, and was annoyed that she still cared about his opinion. She found that she enjoyed managing her property portfolio and investing in the arts - she was less happy about the attention her family name still received.

Finally, Veronica brought the conversation round to the subjects they had both been avoiding.

"So, are you staying in town for a while?"

"I don't know, V. It's not even been two weeks, but, in some respects, it's good to be back. Seeing old friends has been fabulous." She beamed a smile in Veronica's direction, "… and I love my job at the bookstore, but…" Betty paused, "But yesterday threw me for a loop. I'm not going to lie."

"He doesn't live in town, B," Veronica said softly. "At least not all the time. He works away a lot. Freelancing"

"It seems like you know a lot about this town that you rarely live in," Betty grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"As I said, I have my spies," Veronica said lightly. "So how is living with Archie?"

"It's good," Betty replied, then after a moment. "I think, anyway. I mean, it is a little strange, I'm not going to deny that. Especially sleeping in his old room."

Veronica chose not to comment, sipping her coffee and waiting for Betty to continue.

"I'm not sure how much longer I can stay there, to be honest. He's been great, but it's definitely a little awkward." Betty paused again, deciding whether or not to share the next thought. She scanned Veronica's face, but it was expressionless. She took a couple of deep breaths. "He asked me if I had come back to Riverdale for him."

"And did you?"

Betty was caught off guard by Veronica's question. "No," she replied, then more emphatically, "No, I didn't. That's not what this is about. It's not what anything is about. Is that what you think?" She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms, a disappointed look on her face.

Veronica replied in an even and measured tone. "I don't know what I think, Betty. You walked out all of our lives 12 years ago. I wouldn't presume to know you well enough now to know what your motivations are."

Betty remained quiet, processing Veronica's words, looking for subtext and finding none. She uncrossed her arms and relaxed her shoulders, and cast her eyes up to the ceiling. When she finally tilted her head back towards Veronica, she replied wearily. "I came back because I need to deal with the decisions and mistakes I made years ago. Archie being one of them. I hope I am on the way to repairing that friendship." She started to clench her fists unconsciously as she felt a lump unexpectedly grow in her throat. "I didn't expect to have to deal with... everything at the same time."

Veronica reached over and gently unclenched Betty's hands. "Hey," she said softly, "Stop. It's ok."

Betty tipped her head back again, trying desperately not to cry. "No, it's not ok, V. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Veronica moved to Betty's side of the booth and slipped an arm around her old friend. "I know you are, B."

Betty dropped her eyes to Veronica's and was met with a gentle, forgiving smile.

"We were all a mess back then, B. We'd all seen and done way too much for kids our age. And we thought we were all so grown up," Veronica laughed, shaking her head. "Archie and I were on borrowed time anyway. I mean, he was going into the Navy, for God's sake. It was bound to end sooner or later." She paused for a moment, then added, "I forgave both of you for what you did a long time ago." 

Betty shook her head. "I'll never fully understand it. It just happened and..."

Veronica shushed Betty before she could continue. "Life was a little crazy back then. You don't have to try and come up with an explanation for everything that happened in the past. Not for me."

The two women sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Veronica reached a decision and stood up, reached her hand out to Betty. "Come on, B. I want to show you something."

\------

A short while later, Veronica pulled her sports car into the underground parking lot at the Pembrooke. Instead of heading to the penthouse, however, she led Betty out through the main lobby and around the side. Betty glanced at the wall enclosing the Pembrooke's grounds and wondered where they were heading. Veronica stopped at the end of the wall and made a 'ta-da' gesture, with a massive smile on her face. Betty looked at the building in front of her. It was was narrow, less than half the width of a typical house in the town - she couldn't tell how far back it went. There were no windows in the red brick wall, just an old wooden door, which had clearly only recently been painted in a bright shade of blue.

"You wanted to show me this?" Betty frowned in confusion. "What is it?"

"This," said Veronica with a flourish, "is an old stable and coach house block that was originally part of the Pembrooke when it was first built. It was sold off decades ago, but it came back on the market earlier this year. It's been my pet project this summer. Want to see inside?"

Betty nodded, still unsure why they were there, as Veronica unlocked the door. Betty stepped directly into a bright double-height room, lit by large french windows that led out onto the Pembrooke's beautifully manicured grounds. The space was fully open, extending to a kitchen sitting below a mezzanine floor, featuring another set of large windows. It was sparsely furnished, with only a couch and side table, but there was scope to add more. She hadn't realized that she'd zoned out until she heard Veronica calling from the mezzanine above.

Betty turned and followed Veronica up a hardwood staircase into a small, low-ceilinged room. She belatedly recognized that Veronica had been giving her the 'realtor pitch' the whole time, and she hadn't heard a word of it.

"Sorry, V. I missed most of what you were saying," Betty said with what she hoped was an apologetic tone. When Veronica looked hurt in response, she added quickly, "It's just so beautiful. I was trying to take it all in." It wasn't a complete lie - Betty was genuinely impressed with the place.

Veronica smiled again and restarted her pitch. "I think the skylight windows really help keep it light and airy..."

Betty looked around at the small bedroom. There wasn't much space with the slope in the ceiling, but she thought it seemed possible to fit in a good-sized bed and a couple of dressers.

Veronica continued, "... of course, the bathroom had to go downstairs. Not that there was room for an actual tub, but there is an amazing rain shower installed..."

Betty stood at the rail along the edge of the mezzanine. She rested her arms on it, gazing at a large photograph hanging on the opposite wall. "So this is what you do now, Veronica?"

"Yep," said Veronica proudly. "I buy old buildings and have them renovated into apartments or arts' spaces. I use some for exhibitions from time to time, for artists I sponsor."

Betty made a small noise of acknowledgment as she lost herself in the picture. Taken in black and white, it was undoubtedly Sweetwater River, but she couldn't quite nail the exact location. "Is that by one of your artists, V?"

Veronica paused for a moment before responding. "Yes, this photograph was taken by an artist I support." She cleared her throat. "In fact, it was taken by the first artist I sponsored. I have at least one of his works in all of my properties. Some of them are commissioned, some are from his portfolio."

"It's beautiful, V. The entire property is beautiful. It could be a really nice home for someone."

"That's the plan', Veronica smiled brightly. "You interested?"

Betty took a step back. "Me? Well... I..."

"You are planning on staying around, aren't you?" Veronica interrupted.

"Well, yes."

"And you don't want to stay with Archie?"

"No, I don't think..."

"Then, this is perfect!" Veronica interrupted, clapping her hands. "It's nice and secluded and not too big. And it would be your own space."

"I know I'm not exactly struggling for cash just now, but can I afford this V?"

"Let's say it's in lieu of payment for house-sitting. When I'm not around, I need someone to watch over the Pembrooke. Marta, my housekeeper, has been doing it for the past few years, but she wants to move back to New York, and I'd really like to have her back around there. I don't really need her here, just someone to check in on it and keep it ticking over. You would save me hiring someone."

"Really. Just like that? You'd give me a property to live in?"

"Just like that." Veronica reached out her hand, and the two women shook on the agreement. "But before you move in, there's something you need to know."

\------

Betty perched on the edge of the couch, holding her head in her hands, trying to process what she was hearing.

Veronica was paced back and forth - now that she had started this, she wanted to get it all out as quickly as possible. "...So, basically, he's my best friend. We lived together in New York until JB went to college, and a little after that as well. And when he's not working, he's around a little here or in New York, and we're together on the holidays." Veronica finally stopped for breath and paused, studying Betty.

"Did you...? Are you...?" The words died in the back of Betty's throat as she couldn't bring herself to ask the question.

"No," Veronica exhaled deeply and put a hand on Betty's shoulder. "I love him. I love him more than anything, but not like that. He's like a brother. And JB's like a sister now. We formed our own little family. We had to - we had no one else." Veronica gave a sad smile at the memory.

Betty felt numb. Of all the things she had expected Veronica to tell her, she could never have guessed that Veronica and Jughead had spent the past 12 years together. And for the second time in two days, she was caught off guard by the strength of feeling.

Veronica reached out and held Betty's hands in her own, trying to make eye contact. When Betty finally looked back, Veronica could see the pain within them. She almost wished she hadn't said anything, but now that she had, there was no choice other than to continue.

"After you left, Betty. Things got really bad. It was clear that FP was going away for a long time. Jug had a choice to make - try to find Gladys or become JB's legal guardian himself. He was 18 and suddenly was a parent to a 12-year-old." Veronica shook her head at the memory. "For my part, I'd just found out that my father had been faking his illness, for reasons I still don't understand, if I am honest."

Betty stood impassively, tears still threatening.

Veronica waited another beat then went on. "I walked into Pop's one day just after Archie shipped out, and Jug was sitting surrounded by paperwork. He looked so lost, Betty. He had papers for his dad's trial, for JB, for college. And he was about to be homeless because, well..." her voice trailed off. Clearing her throat again, she continued, "So I walked over and asked if he wanted some help, and, well, you know the rest now. He packed up JB, and the two of them came to New York with me."

Betty tried to speak, but her voice only came out as a whisper. "How is he, Veronica? Is he ok?"

Veronica nodded, a trace of a smile playing on her lips. "Professionally, he's doing great. He is an amazing photographer - very much in demand. He sells everything he exhibits, and he gets commissions fairly regularly. And not only from me," she added, proudly.

Betty looked up, silently asking the question.

Veronica sighed, "He has good and bad days. He threw himself into raising JB, and I think he's struggled a little since she left to live in London. And, you know, he's always been a little self-destructive, so he's gone off the rails a few times." She laughed, "And he can still be such a drama queen."

Betty couldn't help but smile at Veronica's last comment. "I'm glad he had you, V. I'm glad you had each other."

Veronica pulled Betty into a hug. "Me too, Betty. Me too."

\------

Archie helped Betty move her things into the coach house apartment the following weekend. He silently chastised himself for not roping one of his crew or even Reggie in to help out - who knew Betty had so many books? At least she was well organized, with a full inventory list, and all her boxes clearly labeled with their contents and the room they were for. He might have teased her a little for that, but she was right. It did make the process easier.

He dropped the last box in Betty's bedroom and glanced down at her sitting on the floor, checking off items on her inventory. He started down the stairs, watching as she lifted a book from an open box and opened the back cover. She slipped out a dog-eared photograph and stared at it with a sad smile. As Archie got closer, he could see it was an old picture of Jughead, complete with beanie and leather jacket. He was leaning on a motorbike, his signature half-smile playing on his lips. 

He cleared his throat. "Last one. You need me to do anything else?"

Betty hurriedly tucked the photo away again and jumped to her feet. "God, Archie. You've done so much already. I don't think I'd have managed this without you."

Archie gave a nonchalant shrug. "You know me, good at moving heavy things."

Betty gave him a withering look. "Seriously, Arch. I don't think I could have done any of this without you."

Archie had a suspicion she wasn't only talking about helping her move that day. He held her a little tighter. "It was nothing, Betty. I hope you enjoy living here. And I'm glad you're sticking around. I missed you."

"I missed you too, Arch. I'm glad I came home."

He tossed his keys in his hand and smiled, "I'll catch you around."

He was just climbing into the truck when he felt a tap on his arm. Expecting it to be Betty having forgotten something, he turned to see Veronica smiling up at him.

"Oh hey, Veronica. I didn't know you were still in town. I just got Betty moved in", he said, gesturing towards the coach house. "She's in there just now if you are looking for her."

"I think you know what I'm looking for, Archie. You remember the security code, don't you?" And with that, she turned and walked away.

Archie paused. He knew this was a bad idea on so many levels, but, well, when had he ever learned to say no?

\------

Archie rolled onto his side and looked at Veronica. She was propped up on one elbow, still looking flawless. He grinned, "I don't know how you still look perfect after that, Ronnie. Maybe you weren't working hard enough."

Veronica playfully hit him on the arm. "I didn't think you put in that much effort, Archiekins. Are you tired out from all the moving today?"

Archie sighed and lay on his back, pulling Veronica onto his chest. "You know, I think it's great what you are doing for Betty. I'm glad you managed to reconnect."

Veronica made a little contented sound and snuggled closer into Archie.

"Does she know that you and Jug are as close as you are, though?" he asked.

"I gave her the cliff notes. Why do you ask?"

"I caught her staring at a photo of him today."

Veronica sat up, paying more attention. "Really? Interesting..."

"Mmmm," said Archie, tucking his arm under his head. "She was sorting through books and took it out of the back cover and, just, I don't know, lost herself in it, I think.

"Maybe it was just in a book she hadn't looked at in years?" Veronica suggested.

"I'm not so sure. It looked deliberate when she picked up the book. Like she knew the picture was kept in there."

Veronica's eyes glittered. "What picture was it?"

"One of him leaning against his bike. No idea when or where it was taken."

Veronica shook her head. "Interesting..." she repeated. Dropping a kiss on Archie's chest, she stood and walked towards her bathroom. "I'm going to freshen up. Want to join me?"

Archie waited for a moment as a thought occurred to him. "Hey, Ronnie! You're not trying any kind of matchmaking here, are you? Giving her an apartment where you know they are bound to run into each other again?"

Veronica stuck her head back around the bathroom door, "Moi? Would I ever attempt something like that?" Archie noticed that she had the audacity to look offended at the accusation.

"Oh God, you are, aren't you? Do you really think that is a good idea?"

Veronica shrugged, "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

"Where is he anyway? Working away again?"

"Don't worry, Archie. He's away for a few weeks. He's not going to walk in on this." She turned away from the door, and Archie heard the water start to run.

"Yeah, cos God forbid that _this_ should become public knowledge," he said ruefully.

"What was that, Archie?"

"Nothing, Ronnie," he said and followed Veronica into the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this. All the comments and kudos are what are encouraging me to continue.
> 
> Once again, it's all unbeta'd so sorry if there are a ton of errors.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead returns to Riverdale to spend Thanksgiving with Veronica

For the past 12 years, Veronica Lodge had been the steadying force in Jughead Jones' life. He wasn't too proud to admit it. She'd given him and JB a home and financial support. Encouraged and supported his photography. Bailed him out after drunken binges and street brawls. Held him when he broke down when everything seemed too much to bear. And what did she ask for in return? Only three things: that he would always pursue his art; that he would never be out of touch for more than a few days; and that no matter what the circumstances, they would have Thanksgiving dinner together. And so it was that Jughead found himself back in Riverdale for the holidays, once again pulling into the underground parking late on Wednesday evening.

Jughead opened the door to Veronica's apartment just as Marta was heading out. She bustled past him, pulling on her coat, performing an exaggerated eye roll. "In her room, Forsythe. Brace yourself."

Jughead winced at the name. It had been a compromise struck back in New York - Marta had refused to use Jughead, and he'd refused to be called 'Mr. Jones'. He pulled her into a large hug "Happy Thanksgiving, Marta. Will we see you for dinner tomorrow?"

Marta patted him on the back, "Not this year, no. My sister is ill, so I'm going back to the city to look after her. I think I'll be spending more time back there now. Miss Lodge has arranged for someone else to look after the house here."

Jughead pulled the woman a little closer. "Look after yourself, Marta. I promise that I'll drop by the next time I'm in the city."

"I'd like that, Forsythe." She started toward the elevator before turning back, whispering conspiratorially, "I've left you two pies since I won't be around tomorrow."

"You do know how much I love you, don't you, Marta?" He called after her, smiling and clutching at his heart. He could still hear her laughing as she got into the elevator.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the apartment and made his way to Veronica's room. He leaned on the door frame with arms crossed, surveying the scene in front of him. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, eyes fixated on the TV. Her silk pajamas matched the color of the wine in the glass she was holding. To the untrained eye, she looked flawless, but even without Marta's warning, he could tell something was off.

"High-risk strategy… Red wine and pristine white sheets," he drawled.

Veronica turned, her face breaking into a huge smile, and placed down the glass, patting the space on the bed beside her. Jughead kicked off his boots and hopped up beside her, immediately smothered by a hug. Neither asked how the other was - he liked that about their relationship. Veronica never asked a question she already knew the answer to - well, not unless she was trying to make a point. Instead, she pulled back and, looking him squarely in the eye, said, "It's good to see you." 

\-------

Veronica had started drinking early on Wednesday. She'd hit the gym after a late breakfast, trying to quiet her thoughts with exercise. Betty swore by it as a coping strategy, but it wasn't working for Veronica. Her unease had been building for weeks, and she had been dealing with it in typical Veronica Lodge fashion - dismissing it out of hand. But after last night? She would have to address it head-on. 

She'd returned to her apartment late the previous night to find Archie waiting at her door. Their arrangement until now was that she would contact him. It had been that way for years. But something had shifted in the last few weeks. She'd barely been in New York, using Betty's return as a reason for staying in town. And the longer she remained, the more frequent the rendezvous with Archie became. 

Not that Veronica was complaining - sex with Archie was always fun. But last night was different - it was more intense. And he'd spent the night for the first time since they were kids. They'd woken still tangled up in each other and picked up where they'd left off in the early hours. When she finally dragged herself into the shower, Archie had followed and worshipped her body once again.

She sighed as she remembered the cocky smile on his face as he'd suggested that they just stay in bed all day. And how soon it had vanished when she told him he had to leave before Jughead got here. And there was the circle that could not be squared. If Veronica was to continue anything with Archie, she'd have to hurt Jughead. 

Veronica Lodge didn't make friends easily. Acquaintances she had by the bucketload. Mutually beneficial arrangements? Too many to count. But true friends, those she let see the real woman behind the icy exterior? There had only really been three: Betty, Archie, and eventually, Jughead. Although thrown together primarily by circumstance, she had been surprised how naturally the friendship with Jughead developed. She supposed that it was in part because they knew all of each other's skeletons, and each had seen the other at their very worst. It was raw, and it was honest, and she never wanted to be without it. So why was she risking it all by screwing Archie in secret?

She'd returned from the gym no closer to working things out, and after a shower, opened her first bottle of wine. She was well on her way through the second when Jughead had arrived at her door.

\------

Jughead released Veronica from the hug and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. She reached over to pause the TV, offering him the bottle of wine.

He took a swig from the bottle. "When did you get here?"

"I've been here since Friday," Veronica replied. She didn't bother adding that she'd only been in New York for four days since his birthday. That would raise too many questions.

"Friday? That's early for you."

"Yeah, well, I wanted away from the city," she said airily.

Jughead looked puzzled for a second, "Man trouble?"

Veronica took another long sip of wine, "Something like that."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Veronica considered his question, weighing up how much she should say. 

She sighed. "I started seeing a guy a few weeks ago. Well, to be fair, we've been hooking up occasionally for years, but it has been more of a regular thing recently."

Jughead raised an eyebrow and gave her a smile, "Ok... so far, I'm not seeing the problem."

"I think he'd like something more serious."

"Ah," said Jughead. "Someone is trying to tie down the elusive Veronica Lodge? We can't have that." 

Veronica rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. "I don't know, Jug. He's a good guy."

"Then what  _ is _ the problem, Veronica? Do you like him?"

Veronica smiled softly. "Yes, I think I do." Her voice was soft and full of warmth.

"So what's up? Do you think he's just interested in the money or, worse, the name?"

Veronica cradled her glass in both hands. "No, I'm pretty sure he doesn't care about any of that."

She felt Jughead's eyes staring at her intently. She could almost hear his brain working, trying to work out what the real story was. After what felt like an eternity, he took another swig from the bottle. "Well, as long as he's not one of those guys with a douchy, preppy name that's been handed down a few generations, you should be fine." He shot her a cheeky grin. "You  _ know _ they are nothing but trouble."

Veronica smirked back before punching him in the arm. He winced. "Ow! Yeah, ok, I deserved that." He took the glass from her and set it on the nightstand before slipping his arm around her, pulling her in close." But seriously, if you think you've found someone who sees you for who you really are, and not what everyone else thinks you are... I think he's worth a shot. Don't deny yourself that chance of happiness, Veronica. If you never put yourself out there, how will you know if you can be happy?"

Veronica snorted and pulled back so she could look at him directly. "Really? That's your advice?"

Jughead's looked insulted. "Hey! It's good advice."

"Yeah, and completely hypocritical. When was the last time you put yourself out there?" Veronica was sitting up straight now, arms folded across her chest.

"That's different," he said coldly, turning away from her.

"Really, why is it different? I don't see you putting yourself out there, Jones, so I'm not sure how you would know."

"I'm just meant to be on my own, Veronica. I don't... put myself out there because I don't want to. I don't... hookup with anyone because I don't want to." His face was flushed, and she could see his frustration starting to show.

A thought suddenly occurred to her. "Wait... does that mean? Does that mean that you haven't... since...?"

"That's none of your business, Veronica." His eyes flared.

"Oh. My. God." Veronica's eyes were as wide as saucers. "You haven't, have you? Oh my God!"

Jughead sighed heavily. "Veronica, please. I've had..." he made a circling gesture with his hand, "you know."

"Oh really?"

He coughed, and the tips of his ears turned red. "I've had one-night stands from time to time." His shoulders slumped, and his expression softened. "But to be honest, Veronica. They really don't do a lot for me. Well, except for the obvious," he said, blushing at the last comment. "It just never feels right," he added, his voice starting to crack.

Veronica placed a hand on his arm and smiled gently.

He tried to return the smile. "Look, can we stop now? What're you watching anyway?"

Veronica leaned back into her pile of pillows. "Dawson's Creek," she replied, enjoying Jughead's expression of horror. "What? It's my guilty pleasure?"

"Oh, don't I know it. I remember you and JB mainlining that when we lived in New York."

"You know," Veronica started coyly. "I see parallels."

"Really?" he said sardonically.

"Yes, really..." She paused before deciding to continue. "You see, Archie is Betty's Dawson."

"I don't want to talk about Betty just now. And certainly not in the context of Archie," he said sourly.

"You can't run away from this forever, Jug?"

"Why not? It's worked for 12 years."

Veronica was getting into her stride now. She sat up straight and regarded Jughead with her trademark piercing gaze. She started counting off on her fingers. "Firstly, no, it hasn't. You're still a mess. Don't give me that look, Jones - you know it's true. Secondly, she's back, so you can't ignore it. The equilibrium of denial has finally been upset." 

He gave her a withering look. "The equilibrium of denial? Really? Just how much have you have to drink, Veronica?"

"Only enough to know this theory is sound," she replied haughtily.

"And if I listen to your crazy theory, can we never discuss it again?"

"Deal! So as I was saying, Archie is the Dawson to Betty's Joey."

He sighed and hid behind a pillow.

Veronica reached over to pull the pillow away from his face. "Think about it. They grew up together. He was an easy and obvious choice for her affections, without ever stopping to think if it was right for her. It was all bubblegum pop and milkshakes, cheerleading and football, and homecoming dances. All very, oh I don't know, chaste and innocent."

"Yeah, Archie was always renowned for the chasteness and innocence of his relationships." There was a bitter edge to Jughead's tone that made Veronica wince internally.

"I agree that those are two adjectives that could never be used about my experiences with Archie." She grinned as she thought about earlier that morning when he'd dropped to his knees in the shower, hitching one of her legs over his shoulder...

Jughead cleared his throat awkwardly. "Can we please avoid straying into the area of too much information?"

"Ok, but you get my point. Of course, they loved one another, but I think it is more like siblings than anything else." She raised a hand to stop the coming interruption before it even started. "And yes, I know they kissed, but I'm sure it never went further than that. Now you…"

Jughead groaned, raising the pillow again, muttering something Veronica thought sounded like "kill me now."

"You," she continued. "You are very much her 'Pacey.'"

Jughead lowered the pillow slightly and stared at Veronica with a mixture of astonishment and disgust. "Are we really going to analyze my life via the medium of teen melodrama?"

"Oh, if the cap fits, Jug. Your life has been nothing but a teen melodrama. And may I say, you have done your fair share of steering into the skid at times."

He raised the pillow again.

Veronica gently teased the edge of the pillow from his eyes. "I'll take that as an acknowledgment of my correctness in this assertion."

"If I steer into it now, will it be over any quicker?"

"Have some wine, Jones. It'll make it less painful." She waggled the now almost empty bottle in his direction.

"I'll pass if it's all the same."

"Your choice. Anyway...what you had was real. It was messy and passionate. You understood each other on a level that no one else would ever get close to."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I thought we did."

"And you faltered. You  _ both _ faltered, Jug. And you know you could have saved it. If either of you had tried. And you will have this deep connection to each other for the rest of your lives, even if neither of you admits it."

Jughead stood up and headed towards the door. He turned back with a smile, "But I thought Pacey was the one who screwed his teacher."

"Oh my God. You paid attention!"

"Veronica, you guys watched it on repeat for months. It was like... osmosis," he said as he walked out the door.

"Then you'll know I'm right. You can't just walk away from this," Veronica called after him. She added quietly, "You have to address those feelings one way or another. You both still love each other." And for a moment, she wasn't sure if she was talking to Jughead or herself.

She waited a few moments before following him down the hallway. Maybe she should just come clean about Archie. He'd reacted better to talking about Betty and Archie than she'd expected - it might not be as bad as she feared. Her hopes evaporated immediately when she found him standing in the darkened kitchen, looking out towards what was now Betty's apartment. The drapes on her French windows were open, and a soft light escaped, pooling on the edge of the path and lawn. Veronica could see Betty curled in the corner of the couch, holding a book and a glass of wine. 

"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Veronica?" Jughead spoke so quietly, she had to strain to hear it, but she could detect the edge to it.

She flicked on the light and walked straight past him to grab another bottle of wine from the rack, feeling his eyes on her. "I have a new tenant and house sitter for the Pembrooke. Marta wants to go back to New York permanently."

"And you thought Betty was the best choice?" He jabbed a finger in the direction of the window, eyes flaring.

She stared unblinking into his eyes as she stabbed the corkscrew into the bottle. "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact." She paused to judge his reaction before continuing, "and I think you'll find it is my decision to make."

Jughead huffed and paused for a moment, leaning both hands on the counter. When he raised his head again, the fury in his eyes remained. Veronica steeled herself and calmly poured herself a glass of wine, waiting for his temper to explode. But it didn't. Instead, his shoulders slumped as if he was deflating in front of her. He turned and walked slowly out of the kitchen without another word. A moment later, the front door slammed.

Veronica tapped her fingers on the counter and glanced out towards Betty, still sitting with her book. In truth, she was far less convinced about the wisdom of her actions than she would ever let on to Jughead. Or Betty, for that matter. Still, it was too late to walk it back now - she just had to trust that her instincts had been correct and see where the chips fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken so long to update this - I had to focus on assignments for a few weeks.


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